Major Louis Cukela
Leatherneck | Maj Allan C. Bevilacqua | October 25, 2006

 Do you have a dictionary handy? You do? Good. Pull it down from the shelf and look up the word eccentric. Don’t be surprised if you find a photograph of Louis Cukela right alongside.
Cukela [pronounced coo-KAY-la] was the living embodiment of the word, the prime meridian from which any and all things eccentric are measured, a man who could leave observers shaking their heads in bewilderment at the same time they were doubled over in laughter. If there ever was a man who did things his way, even if that way might have seemed odd, a man blunt as a bullet and direct as an avalanche, that man was Louis Cukela. And he always ... always ... had the last word.

Wait a minute, wait a minute. Who was this Cukela character, some kind of nut? OK, let’s back up and start from the beginning. Louis Cukela was born in the town of Spalato, known today as Split, in Croatia in 1888. Maybe that was a hint of things to come, because Croatia, along with Serbia, Slovenia and Bosnia, all those feuding, fussing and fighting places known as the Balkans, was part of what was then known as Austria-Hungary. That was where in 1914 everything boiled over and erupted into the First World War, which didn’t mean all that much to Louis Cukela.

He packed up and went to America in 1913. There was a tour as a cavalry trooper in the U.S. Army that ended in 1916, but Cukela didn’t stay a civilian for long. In January 1917, just a few months before the United States entered World War I, he enlisted in the Marine Corps, and in time, found himself a member of the 66th Company, 1st Battalion, Fifth Marine Regiment.

In France in 1918, Cukela fought in every battle of the Marine Brigade, from Belleau Wood to the Meuse River Crossing. Along the way he collected a commission as a second lieutenant, as well as the Medal of Honor and four Silver Star Citations. From the French, there was the Legion d’Honneur, the Medaille Militaire (the first award of this prestigious decoration to a Marine officer) and the Croix de Guerre 1914-18 with two palms and one silver star. Italy decorated him with the Croce al Merito di Guerra, while Yugoslavia weighed in with the Commander’s Cross of the Royal Order of the Crown of Yugoslavia.

The only award for mangling the English language was unofficial. Cukela won that hands down when he tore a careless subordinate a new one, ending with the line that became famous: “Next time I send damn fool I go myself.”

Next time I send damn fool I go myself. Those nine words swept through General John J. Pershing’s American Expeditionary Forces like Epsom salts through a goose. YANK, the AEF newspaper, drew a series of cartoons around them. They found their way into Stateside magazines. The bumbler in the ranks could expect to hear them from his squad leader. It was rumored that GEN Pershing himself resorted to them when his patience was sorely tried. And they established Louis Cukela as a world-class eccentric.

Next time I send damn fool I go myself. Try them yourself the next time some goof-off fouls things up. See how good it feels. Kind of takes the strain off the liver.

For Louis Cukela, though, that was just the start. There were always new challenges, and there were always inventive ways of overcoming them. And always there was the last word.

Take the case of the School Solution. That was in the 1930s when Cukela, then a captain, attended the Army’s Infantry School at Fort Benning, Ga. At the finish of one particular practical application problem in infantry tactics, Cukela was called upon to present his solution to the situation.

“I attack,” was Cukela’s response.

That, according to the instructor, was not the proper course of action given the situation. Examining all the aspects of the situation in detail, the instructor went on to explain that the proper course of action, the School Solution, was to withdraw to more defensible terrain and establish a hasty defense.

“I am Cukela. I attack,” Cukela retorted. Then, tapping the ribbon of the Medal of Honor above his left breast pocket, he fired the last word. “How you think I get this?”

Fort Benning may have been the Army’s school for infantry officers, but that didn’t rule out the school including classes in equestrianism—horseback riding. Officers on horseback were a leftover from the Army’s days of chasing Geronimo across Arizona, but every officer student at Fort Benning put in a certain amount of hours on top of a horse. It took Louis Cukela to come up with a unique method of getting a horse’s attention.

Riding a horse might have seemed like duck soup for an old cavalry trooper. The truth was, though, Cukela didn’t like horses, didn’t like them the least little bit. On the other hand, if the antics of one particular horse can be taken to mean anything, horses didn’t care all that much for Cukela either.

Anyone watching might have suspected that fact on the day Cukela’s mount took off on him at a gallop. Despite every command of bridle and bit, the horse lit out for the horizon with Cukela bouncing up and down in the saddle like a rubber ball on top of a water fountain. None of the methods that had been taught persuaded the horse to even slow down, much less stop. The horse was headed for the Chattahoochee River and Alabama.

Tossing aside the accepted means of controlling a horse, Cukela sawed on the reins and shouted, “Stop, horse!” The horse kept right on going.

“STOP, HORSE!” Louder this time. No response from the horse except to gallop faster.

“STOP, HORSE!” People in downtown Columbus stopped and listened, wondering what all the commotion was. The horse shifted into a higher gear.

Enough was enough. Cukela balled up his fist and slammed it down squarely on top of the horse’s head. The horse staggered and stumbled to a halt, tossing its head and staring about with out-of-focus eyes.

Cukela leaped from the saddle, snatched the bridle and yanked the horse’s head down to eye level. “You listen good, horse,” he growled. “I am Cukela. You are horse. I tell you stop, you stop. You not stop I give you hit break your head.” Cukela turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving the stunned horse shaking its head. “Stupid horse,” Cukela muttered.

Blunt as a bullet. Direct as an avalanche.

That may have been what the company commander in San Diego thought when Cukela appeared as a member of the Adjutant and Inspector’s official party. The Adjutant and Inspector was the forerunner of today’s Inspector General. Then as now, the Adjutant and Inspector represented the Commandant of the Marine Corps, and Marine Corps commands could expect to stand A&I Inspections on a regular basis.

That was what was taking place when Capt Cukela found a number of glaring irregularities in certain records, records not maintained in the manner stipulated by the Marine Corps Manual. Asking for the company’s copy of the Marine Corps Manual, Cukela thumbed through it to the appropriate passages.

Then, ripping out the particular pages, Cukela handed them to the company commander. “Here, you not needing these pages anymore. You have better way, hah?”

Have you ever, when you were firing the rifle range, been ordered to fix bayonets and charge? You might have if you had been a recruit at Parris Island in the late 1930s. That was when, during a particularly bad string of rapid fire, the range officer, Capt Cukela, snatched the microphone from his line noncommissioned officer.

“Cease fire. Clear and lock your piece. Fix bayonets. Charge the butts!” Cukela bellowed. Fifty bewildered recruits went galumphing downrange with fixed bayonets while Cukela urged them on. “You can’t shoot them; you go stab them.”

The Golden Age of Cukela had to have been at Norfolk, Va. Retired just prior to the outbreak of WW II, then-Major Cukela was almost immediately recalled to active duty and assigned as Commanding Officer, Marine Barracks, Norfolk Naval Base. Long years after he left, Marines at Norfolk were still telling Cukela stories.

One particular story that lived on grew out of Cukela’s penchant for leadership by walking around. He didn’t believe in leading from behind a desk; he believed in getting out and seeing firsthand what was going on every day. Not a bad style, come to think of it.

It happened that as Cukela was ascending the ladder to the second deck of the barracks, two young Marines, new hands, were coming down. As they had been taught in boot camp, they stood aside at attention, allowing the major to pass. Instead, he stopped.

Skewering one of the Marines with a piercing gaze, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“No, sir,” replied the puzzled Marine.

“Hmph,” snorted Cukela. “Dumb. Don’t know nothing.”

Turning to the other Marine, Cukela asked the same question. “You know who I am?”

“Yes, sir,” the Marine responded smartly. “You’re Major Cukela.”

“Hmph.” Another snort. “Wise guy. Think you know everything.” That last word again.

As to getting out and about, well, Cukela did that by bicycle. There was a war on. A lot of things were in short supply. There was rationing, and not the least of the commodities rationed was gasoline. As a means of conserving fuel, Cukela got about the base on a bicycle, a conveyance not without its perils.

Do you remember the old taunt when you were a kid playing sandlot baseball and muffed an easy ground ball: “Two hands for beginners”? Riding a bicycle was strictly a two-hands job for Cukela. Any attempt to guide a bicycle with only one hand was a surefire preliminary to Cukela and the bicycle both ending up in a heap.

As a result, there was a standing instruction that Maj Cukela was not to be saluted when he was on a bicycle. That was, of course, a challenge no Marine could resist. Marines were known to go out of their way to search out Cukela when he was mounted on his bicycle. Then it was a matter of rendering the proper courtesy, a hand salute.

For any officer, and for Cukela in particular, a salute was a courtesy that was to be returned. He never failed to do so. He never failed either, to go tumbling rump over teakettle to land in a heap, much to the secret delight of the Marine who had brought the whole mishap about. But it was Cukela as usual who always had the last word.

“How many times I got to tell you, don’t salute when I’m on the bicycle?”

Louis Cukela, a real funny guy. But a mighty warrior and stand-up guy who always looked out for his Marines, and who could always be counted on to be there when a Marine needed a helping hand.

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 Out of every 100 men, ten shouldn't even be there, Eighty are just targets, Nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back." - Hericletus, circa 500 BC

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Louis Cukela 
Major, United States Marine Corps 
Born at Sabenes, Austria, on May 1, 1888, he is a double recipient of the Medal of Honor, one by the Army and one by the Navy for the same action in World War I.
He was serving at the time as Sergeant, 66th Company, 5th Marine Regiment at Villers-Cotterets, France.

He was the last double receipient of the Medal of Honor to die when he passed away at the Naval Medical Center at Bethesda, Maryland, on March 19. 1956. He was buried in Section 1 of Arlington National Cemetery. His wife, Minnie Strayer Cukela, who died on August 10, 1956, is buried with him.

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Major Louis Cukela, who was awarded both the Navy and Army Medal of Honor for extraordinary heroism in France during World War I, was a native of Croatia. The same act of heroism also brought decorations from France, Italy, and his native Yugoslavia.
Louis Cukela was born at Spalato, Crotia, on May 1, 1888, son of George and Johana (Bubrich) Cukela. The major was educated in the grade schools of Spalato, then attended the Merchant Academy and later, the Royal Gymnasium, both for two year courses. His mother died in 1900. In 1913 Major Cukela emigrated to the United States and he and his brother settled in Minneapolis, Minnesota. His father and three sisters remained in Serbia.

On September 21, 1914, he enlisted in the U.S. Army. He was serving as a corporal in Company H, 13th Infantry when he was honorably discharged on June 12, 1916.

Seven months later, on January 31, 1917, with war raging in Europe from a spark touched off in the major's native Serbia, he enlisted in the Marine Corps. Following the United States' entry into the conflict, he went to France and took part in all the engagements in which the 5th Marines fought.

He was awarded both Medals of Honor for the same action near Villers-Cotterets, France, on the morning of July 18, 1918, during the Soissons engagement. The 66th Company, 5th Marines, in which Major Cukela was a gunnery sergeant, was advancing through the Forest de Retz when it was held up by an enemy strong point. Despite the warnings of his men, the gunnery sergeant crawled out from the flank and advanced alone towards the German lines. Getting beyond the strong point despite heavy fire, "Gunny" Cukela captured one gun by bayoneting its crew. Picking up their hand grenades, he then demolished the remaining portion of the strong point from the shelter of a nearby gun pit. The Marine took four prisoners and captured two undamaged machine guns.

The famous Marine was wounded in action twice but since there is no record of either wound at the Navy's Bureau of Medicine and Surgery, he was never awarded the Purple Heart. The first wound was suffered at Jaulny, France, on September 16, 1918 during the St. Mihiel engagement. Major Cukela was wounded again during the fighting in the Champagne sector. Neither wound was serious.

In addition to the two Medals of Honor, Major Cukela was awarded the Silver Star by the Army; the Medaille Militaire (he was the first Marine officer ever to receive this medal), the Legion d'Honneur in the rank of Chevalier, the Croix de Guerre with two palms, another Croix de Guerre with silver star, all by France; the Croce al Merito di Guerra by Italy; and Commander's Cross of the Royal Order of the Crown of Yugoslavia. He also received three Second Division citations.

Major Cukela received a field appointment to the rank of second lieutenant in the Marine Corps Reserve on September 26, 1918 and was selected for a commission in the regular Marine Corps on March 31, 1919. Promoted to first lieutenant on July 17, 1919, he was advanced to the rank of captain on September 15, 1921. His promotion to major was effected on the day of his retirement, June 30, 1940.

After the war, Major Cukela served at overseas bases in Haiti, Santo Domingo, the Philippines, and China, and at domestic stations in Quantico, Virginia; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Norfolk, Virginia; Hampton Roads, Virginia; Mare Island, California; Washington, D.C.; Nashville, Indiana, and Fort Knox, Kentucky.

From June, 1933 to January, 1934, the major served as a company commander with the Civilian Conservation Corps. His last years in the Marine Corps were spent at Norfolk, where he served as the post quartermaster. Retired as a major on June 30, 1940, he was recalled to active duty on July 30 of the same year. During World War II the major served at Norfolk and Philadelphia. He finally returned to the inactive retired list on May 17, 1946. Major Cukela served a few days less than 32 years of active duty in the Army and Marines.

The Marine hero was married to Minnie Myrtle Strayer of Miflintown, Pennsylvania, at Washington, D.C., on December 22, 1923. On March 19, 1956, Major Cukela died at the U.S. Naval Hospital, Bethesda, Maryland. Following services at St. Jane Frances de Chantel Church, Bethesda, he was buried with full military honors in Arlington National Cemetery, March 22, 1956. Mrs. Cukela died August 10, 1956.

At the time of his death, Major Cukela was survived by a sister, Mrs. Zorka Cukela Dvoracek, of Sibenik, Crotia.

Major Cukela had the following decorations and medals; Medal of Honor (Navy); Medal of Honor (Army); Silver Star; Victory Medal with Aisne, Aisne-Marne, St. Mihiel, Meuse-Argonne, and Defensive Sector clasps and three silver stars; Haitian Campaign Medal, Marine Corps Expeditionary Medal with one star; Yangtze Service Medal; American Defense Service Medal; American Area Campaign Medal; World War II Victory Medal; Medaille Militaire; Legion d'Honneur; two Croix de Guerre with two palms; Croix de Guerre with Silver Star; Croce al Merito di Guerra; Commander's Cross of the Royal Order of the Crown of Yugoslavia; and the French Fourragere.

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CUKELA, LOUIS (Army Medal)
Rank and organization: Sergeant, U.S. Marine Corps, 66th Company, 5th Regiment. Place and date: Near Villers-Cotterets, France, 18 July 1918. Entered service at: Minneapolis, Minnesota. Born: 1 May 1888, Sebenes, Austria. G.O. No.: 34, W.D., 1919. (Also received Navy Medal of Honor.)

Citation:

When his company, advancing through a wood, met with strong resistance from an enemy strong point, Sgt. Cukela crawled out from the flank and made his way toward the German lines in the face of heavy fire, disregarding the warnings of his comrades. He succeeded in getting behind the enemy position and rushed a machinegun emplacement, killing or driving off the crew with his bayonet. With German handgrenades he then bombed out the remaining portion of the strong point, capturing 4 men and 2 damaged machineguns.

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CUKELA, LOUIS (Navy Medal)
Rank and organization: Sergeant, U.S. Marine Corps, 66th Company, 5th Regiment. Born: 1 May 1888, Sebenes, Austria. Accredited to: Minnesota. (Also received Army Medal of Honor.) 

Citation:

For extraordinary heroism while serving with the 66th Company, 5th Regiment, during action in the Forest de Retz, near Viller-Cottertes, France, 18 July 1918. Sgt. Cukela advanced alone against an enemy strong point that was holding up his line. Disregarding the warnings of his comrades, he crawled out from the flank in the face of heavy fire and worked his way to the rear of the enemy position. Rushing a machinegun emplacement, he killed or drove off the crew with his bayonet, bombed out the remaining part of the strong point with German handgrenades and captured 2 machineguns and 4 men.

 


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 Out of every 100 men, ten shouldn't even be there, Eighty are just targets, Nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back." - Hericletus, circa 500 BC

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Am I reading correctly 2 MOH for the same action???  I know the standards have changed significanly in nearly 100 years but I never came across that before.

"...my religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me." He added, after a pause, looking me full in the face: "That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave"

General "Stonewall" Jackson

19 men are double recipients of the MoH Chaplain.  Of those 19, 14 received the award for heroism on two separate occasions.  The remaining five are all Marines (including Cukela) who served in the 4th Bde of 2ID in WWI.  The Brigade consisted of the 5th and 6th Marine Regiments and brought 2 ID up to the full TO&E of 4 BDES required by the WWI Square Division concept.  All five of these brave Marines received two separate Medals for their one "above and beyond" act due to the fact the the USMC and the Army each nominated them for a separate citation, and they received both the Army and the Navy version of the Medal.  Double awards of the MoH, even for seperate acts of valor, are no longer authorized.

http://www.homeofheroes.com/moh/history/history_double.html

"The degenerative and loony should never be denigrated but, rather, thanked. In their absence, the rest of you would be obliged to fill congressional seats... positions naturally unsavory to the sane and honorable."

Thorax